08-10-1998
San Diego to Seattle, In the Van
 
I completely neglected to tell you about our trip to Italian Village. It's a little restaurant/grocery store just down the block from the Casbah in San Diego, run by all the S. California Italians who aren't vacationing in Laguna. It's a charming place, with huge piles of great food available for very cheap, and we go there and eat and drink sparkling water from the mouths of virgins and generally enjoy ourselves. Well, this trip was special, because when we came in we were treated to a blast of song from THREE burly Italian tenors, who strolled around the tables belting out the old hits while a gal at the piano kept time. It was charming. All that "hot-blooded" crap is true: certain gentle high notes would set the whole room blubbering like babies. James was the only one of us (Tim, Andy, Vick, myself, and Eric from A Minor Forest with his friend whose name escapes me) who griped, saying something about how it was like having a "Goddamned trio of mosquitoes stuck in my ear" or something like that. I could understand but I was in heaven and would not come down.

We dropped Andy off at LAX airport at about 5:00 in the morning. He's spending three weeks in Guadalajara, hoping the señoritas appreciate his command of their native tongue (if you know what I mean), getting back home just in time to head East, where we'll drop him in Chicago, as you all know.

We'd planned to head back to San Francisco for dinner with friends, but the drive North was feeling so good to me I had to lobby to keep straight on. We spent the night in Yreka -- we always seem to spend the night in Yreka, we should just get an apartment there. We had dinner at this bizarre Italian (???) place in a little next-to-the-freeway town. I had a big chocolate shake and I have to say I want another one right now so I can't write too much longer. So we stayed the night in Yreka, blasted for home the next day and still made it home after 10:00 at night, so it's good we skipped S.F. or I wouldn't have been home 'til real late.

Nice, of course, to get home. As we pulled into town Tim said it seemed like we'd been gone two days, and I had to agree. This next trip, though, three weeks out... I'm not used to it. I know I'm gonna be in withdrawals. I love my home too much.

You will hear all about it, believe me.


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